


Prelude and Fugue

by p1013



Series: Kinkuary 2021 [14]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, First Time, Fluff and Smut, M/M, POV Harry Potter, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:20:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29478348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/p1013/pseuds/p1013
Summary: There's a first time for everything. This is theirs.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Kinkuary 2021 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2140512
Comments: 25
Kudos: 177
Collections: HP Kinkuary 2021





	Prelude and Fugue

**Author's Note:**

> Day 15 - First Time

They'd been skirting about the issue for weeks now. Harry hadn't wanted to push, and Draco hadn't done more than hold his hand or kiss his cheek gently before saying goodnight and leaving Harry alone on his own doorstep. Ron had warned Harry that traditional Wizarding society tended to be a bit slow about these things, that there were a lot of Wix who waited until marriage to have sex, that it wouldn't be anything personal against Harry (he was always quick to assume that others didn't want him unless he had some use to them, a habit he was trying hard to break). It had eased some of his worry, but as their third date passed, then their fourth, then their fifth, Harry started to worry that there was something wrong.

"No," Draco finally said when Harry got up the courage to ask. "No, it's nothing wrong with you."

It'd hurt like a blow. "It's nothing wrong with you, either," Harry said softly, his hand cupping Draco's cheek, the most intimate touch they'd shared up to that point. "You're perfect exactly the way you are. We don't have to rush. Whenever you're ready, we'll—"

"I _am_ ready." Draco turned his head to kiss Harry's palm, and though his breath trembled against Harry's palm, he did it again. "I just don't know how to start."

"Do you want me to… Can I… Draco, I want to be good for you."

That had made him smile. "All you are is good, Potter."

Harry took him out to a nice dinner. He bought expensive wine, fed him good food. Let Draco drive the conversation, and happily followed wherever his nimble, intriguing mind wanted to go. Desert had been shared, a piece of decadently rich chocolate cake with a ganache that clung to the corner of Draco's mouth the way Harry wanted to.

He'd wiped that bit of sweetness away with his thumb, then snuck it into his own mouth, frantic over the faint hint of Draco's taste that it brought with it.

"Tonight," Draco had said as they stood on Harry's doorstep, their hands clasped together. "I'd like to come in."

Harry didn't say anything, just unlocked the door and pulled him inside.

He made them tea, though neither of them drank it. The mugs sat steaming on the coffee table as he and Draco kissed on the couch. Harry wasn't sure where to put his hands, though he'd kissed plenty of people before. None of them left Harry feeling as on fire and terrified as Draco did. Part of him was afraid that if he pushed too hard, too fast, that the dream of it all would shatter, popped like a bubble grabbed too quickly from the air.

He kept his touch light. Each caress was slow and deliberate, thought out and considered before being undertaken. The last thing he wanted to do was have this iridescent, sparkling moment end.

Draco was the first to move. He shifted, his knee digging into the back of the couch as his body leaned into Harry's. Even that slight touch was enough to make Harry gasp. But his breath stilled in his lungs as Draco moved again, climbing carefully, hesitantly into Harry's lap.

"Is this okay?" he breathed against Harry's mouth, his hands on Harry's shoulders steady only because he pressed them so hard into skin and bone. "I don't know what I'm doing here."

"You're doing fine." Harry rubbed his thumbs against Draco's cheeks, smiling to hopefully settle the low fear in Draco's eyes. Trailing his touch down Draco's neck, over his chest, down to his waist, Harry held him gently, delicately, patiently. "You're perfect."

"Far from it," Draco said with a nervous laugh. "I just… I don't know what to do with this feeling. I'm afraid if I let it out, it'll ruin this. I'm so… I _want_ you. Gods, I've never wanted something so bad in my life, Potter, and what if—"

Harry kissed Draco quiet, his heart clenching in his chest like a fist. It ached, and his blood boiled, and he wanted nothing more than to throw Draco down on the couch and ravish him like he was begging to be.

But this wasn't some wild one night stand. It wasn't a quick shag and then out the door. This was momentous in a way few things had ever been in Harry's life. This was something precious, something he had chosen for himself and sworn to keep safe.

His own pleasure, his own desperation, could wait.

Harry kissed Draco to distract him, to calm him. He used his lips and tongue to say the things that he couldn't find words for. The desire to protect, to cherish, the way those feelings melded with Harry's desire to ruin Draco, to dig into the meat of him and grab all of the things that mattered and hold onto them until they couldn't be taken away. The possessiveness was nothing new, but the ferocity of it scared him. Harry didn't know what he'd do if Draco said this was over, if the depth of Harry's feelings were too much, if this was nothing to him. Harry wanted to bury himself in the center of Draco's chest and never leave.

He wanted Draco to be his home.

"Harry." Draco's fingers traced the edge of Harry's eyes, the curve of his cheek, the line of his jaw. "Harry, please. Don't cry, love."

Gasping, he buried his face in Draco's neck and fought for composure. "I'm sorry," he said, voice thick with tears and desire. "I'm sorry. I'm ruining it."

"No, darling, no." A gentle kiss to his temple, to the top of his head. "You're perfect. You're absolutely perfect."

"Tell me you want me."

"I do."

"Please, Draco." Harry lifted his mouth, questing for Draco's, for comfort. "Please, tell me."

"I want you, Harry." A soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. Another across the apple of his check. "I want you. As long as you'll let me, I'll have you. Just as you'll have me."

Harry surged up and captured Draco's mouth with his. The fire in his soul blazed, and though he tried, he couldn't hold it back. "You're mine," he said between bruising kisses. "You're mine, and I'm not letting you go."

Draco melted then, softening in Harry's arms like a marionette with its strings cut. His hands wrapped around Harry's shoulders, and he pressed their bodies as close together as they could get. When their lengths brushed, just a barely-there pleasure, they both cursed, then angled their hips so that the next time, it was better.

Draco ground down on Harry's lap, and as he lifted, he thrust against Harry's stomach. A slow, steady pressure that drove the both of them mad. Hands fumbled for hems. Fingers slipped and skidded on buttons. Their mouths only parted long enough for shirts to be discarded, for flesh to be revealed.

Harry couldn't stop his hands from roaming, from finding every inch of perfect muscle and skin and feeling it, finally, without the barrier of clothes between. It was overwhelming. It was glorious. And through it all, the careful motion of Draco's prick against his own, the press and pull, the drive towards completion as frantic as their racing hearts pressed as close to each other as they could get with the obstacle of flesh and bone still in the way.

Draco's thrusts against Harry's stomach grew more frantic, less measured. His hands shaking, Harry took one from Draco's waist to the fly of Draco's trousers, then stilled.

"Let me help you," he finally said because _I'll die if I don't touch you_ was too much for this moment, though true.

"Oh, Gods, yes." Draco thrust into the expanse of Harry's palm. Groaning, he kissed Harry again and again. "Touch me, please."

Harry's fingers were steady on the zip and as they parted the fabric and pulled down Draco's pants, but as soon as Draco's prick sprang free, they stumbled. 

He'd never been so afraid before in his life. He'd never done something so meaningful before in his life.

Pushing past the fear, Harry wrapped his fingers around Draco's cock and squeezed. It punched a groan from Draco's throat, and he thrust into Harry's fist, eyes shut and the corners dotted with tears.

"Tell me what you like," Harry said as he stroked Draco from root to tip, again and again. "Tell me if this is too much."

"It's perfect," Draco gasped. "You're perfect. Gods, Harry. This is going to be over embarrassingly fast."

"That's okay," Harry said, wanting to laugh, wanting to cry. "We'll have plenty of time later."

Draco thrust again, cursing. "Next time, I'm getting your trousers off."

As Harry laughed, Draco kissed him, and then he was coming over Harry's stomach and hand, coming apart the same way that Harry was. Draco shivered and shook, his head buried in the crook of Harry's neck as he panted curses words and held onto Harry's arms hard enough to bruise.

Harry held Draco close, unbothered by the mess between them. There would be time to clean it up later. Harry soothed Draco's trembling body, running his clean hand up and down Draco's back and murmuring soft words into his temple.

"What about you?" Draco finally asked, his question a whisper against Harry's overheated flesh.

"I'm fine." Another kiss, another gentle touch. "I can wait."

"But what if I can't?"

Draco's hands, still shaking, opened Harry's trousers and reached inside. His touch was uncertain at first, but as he wrapped his fingers around Harry's cock, he became more confident, more steady. Harry tried not to think about why Draco knew what he was doing but the idea of Draco touching himself and his hot breath on Harry's neck as he watched his hand on Harry's flesh was enough to wrench the orgasm from him, a soul-deep pleasure that had his hips rising from the couch and his heart pounding in his chest.

He pulled Draco's mouth down to his own, kissing the smug laughter from Draco's lips.

"Quit laughing," he said through his own smile. "It isn't funny."

Draco kissed him, though it was off-center and more smile than caress. "It's very funny. You'd think you'd never done this before."

"Not like this," Harry said, the honesty catching him off-guard. He blamed it on the orgasm, stealing his ability to play coy. "Nothing like this."

"Well, then." Draco rested his forehead against Harry's, his grey eyes bright. "First time's the charm."

**Author's Note:**

> Consider this an apology for yesterday's fic. 😂


End file.
